Silence

CHAPTER 18

AS IF ON CUE, THE SCREECH OF TIRES RANG OUT BEHIND us. Hank would be proud; his men didn’t give up easily. Jev yanked me behind a crumbling brick wall. “We can’t outrun them to the Tahoe, and even if we could, I’m not dragging you into a car chase with Nephilim. They’ll walk away from a rolled or totaled car, but you might not. Better to take our chances on foot and circle back to the car after they’ve given up. There’s a nightclub a block from here. Not the cleanest place, but we can hide there.” He took my elbow, propelling me forward.

“If Hank’s men check the club, and they’d be stupid not to since they’ll see the Tahoe and know we’re on foot, they’ll recognize me. The lights in the warehouse were on for a full five seconds before you dragged me out. Someone in that room had to have gotten a good look at me. I can try to hide in the bathroom, but if they start asking around, I won’t stay hidden long.”

“The warehouse you broke into is for new recruits. Sixteen or seventeen in human years and newly sworn, making them less than one in Nephilim years. I’m stronger than they are, and I’ve had a lot more practice when it comes to toying with minds. I’m going to put a trance on you. If they look at us, they’re going to see a guy in black leather chaps with a spiked choker, and a platinum blond girl in a corset and combat boots.”

Suddenly I felt a little light in the head. A trance. Was that how the mind-tricks worked? By enchantment?

Jev tipped my chin up, searching my eyes. “Do you trust me?”

Whether or not I trusted him didn’t matter. The hard truth was, I had to. The alternative was facing down Hank’s men alone, and I could guess how that would end.

I nodded.

“Good. Keep walking.”

I followed Jev into a retired factory that now served as Bloody Mary’s nightclub, and he handled the cover charge. It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the strobe light pulsing my vision between black and white. The interior walls had been knocked down, allowing for open space that at the moment was crammed with gyrating bodies. Ventilation was poor, and I was immediately hit by a wave of body odor mingled with perfume, cigarette smoke, and vomit. The clientele was a good fifteen years older than me, and I was the only person dressed in cords and sporting a ponytail, but Jev’s mind-tricks must have been working, because amid the sea of chains, leather, spikes, and fishnets, no one batted an eye in my direction.

We fought our way to the center of the crowd, where we could hide and still keep watch on the doors.

“Plan A is to stay here and wait them out,” Jev yelled at me over the throb of music. “Eventually they’ll have to give up and go back to the warehouse.”

“And plan B?”

“If they follow us in here, we’ll leave through the back exit.”

“How do you know there’s a back exit?”

“I’ve been here before. Not my top choice, but it’s a favorite when it comes to my kind.”

I didn’t want to think about what his kind was. Right now, I didn’t want to think about anything but making it home alive.

I glanced around. “I thought you said you could mind-trick everyone. So why do I get the feeling people are staring?”

“We’re the only two people in the room not dancing.”

Dancing. Men and women who bore an impressive resemblance to Kiss band members were head-banging, shoving, and licking each other. A guy with chain suspenders holding up his jeans climbed a ladder affixed to the wall and hurled himself into the crowd. To each his own, I thought.

“May I have this dance?” Jev asked with a sympathetic tug of his mouth.

“Shouldn’t we be finding a way out of here? Devising a couple more backup plans?”

He clasped my right hand, drawing me against him in a slow dance that was at odds with the racing music. As if reading my mind, he said, “They’ll stop staring soon. They’re too busy competing for most extreme dance move of the night. Try to relax. Sometimes the best offense is a good defense.”

My heart rate picked up then, and not because I knew Hank’s men had to be close by. Dancing this way with Jev tore down any chance I had at holding my feelings in check. His arms were strong, his body warm. He wasn’t wearing cologne, but there was an intriguing hint of fresh-cut grass and rainwater when he pulled me close. And those eyes. Deep, mysterious, unfathomable. Despite everything, I wanted to lean into him and … just let go.

“Better,” he murmured into my ear.

Before I could respond, he spun me out. I’d never danced like this before, and Jev’s skill at it surprised me. Street dancing I might have guessed, but not this. The way he danced reminded me of another time and place. He was confident and elegant … smooth and sexy.

“Do you think they’re going to buy that a guy in tacky leather chaps dances like this?” I scoffed when he twirled me back into his embrace.

“Keep it up, and I’ll put you in the chaps.” He didn’t smile, but I sensed an undercurrent of amusement. Glad one of us found something about the situation remotely funny.

“How do the trances work? Like a glamour?”

“It’s more complicated than that, but same end result.”

“Could you teach me?”

“If I taught you everything I know, we’d need a considerable amount of time alone together.”

Unsure if he was suggesting anything, I said, “I’m sure we could keep it … professional.”

“Speak for yourself,” he said in that same steady tone that made it hard to guess his intentions.

His hand was on my back, holding me against him, and I realized I was more nervous than I’d originally thought. I found myself wondering if the connection between us had been this electric before. Had being near him always felt like playing with fire? Warm and bright, intense and dangerous?

To keep our conversation from treading further into uncomfortable territory, I laid my head against his chest, even though I knew it wasn’t safe. Nothing about him felt safe. My entire body hummed under his touch, a completely foreign and riveting sensation. The sensible part of me wanted to dissect my emotions, overthinking and overcomplicating my reaction to Jev. But a more physical and immediate part was tired of allowing logic to chase me in circles, constantly wondering about that gap in time, and just like that, I shut off the switch to my brain.

Piece by piece, I let Jev break down my defenses. I swayed and dipped against him, letting him set the rhythm. I was overly warm, my head clogged with smoke, and the moment began to feel unreal, only making it easier to believe that later, if guilt or regret haunted me, I could pretend it never happened. While I was here, trapped in the club, trapped in Jev’s eyes, he made it too easy to succumb.

His mouth grazed my ear. “What are you thinking?”

I closed my eyes briefly, drowning in sensation. How warm I feel. How incredibly alive and vibrant and heedless every last inch of me feels next to you.

His mouth twisted into a perceptive, sexy smile. “Hmm.”

“Hmm?” I looked away, flustered, automatically using irritation to cover my discomfort up. “What does ‘hmm’ have to do with anything? Could you ever use more than five words? All this grunting and minced words make you come across — primal.”

His smile tipped higher. “Primal.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Me Jev, you Nora.”

“Stop it.” But I nearly smiled in spite of myself.

“Since we’re keeping it primal, you smell good,” he observed. He moved closer, making me acutely aware of his size, the rise and fall of his chest, the warm burn of his skin on mine. Electricity tingled along my scalp, and I shuddered with pleasure.

“It’s called a shower …,” I began automatically, then trailed off. My memory snagged, taken aback by a compelling and forceful sense of undue familiarity. “Soap, shampoo, hot water,” I added, almost as an afterthought.

“Naked. I know the drill,” Jev said, something unreadable passing over his eyes.

Unsure how to proceed, I attempted to wash away the moment with an airy laugh. “Are you flirting with me, Jev?”

“Does it feel that way to you?”

“I don’t know you well enough to say either way.” I tried to keep my voice level, neutral even.

“Then we’ll have to change that.”

Still uncertain of his motives, I cleared my throat. Two could play this game. “Running from bad guys together is your idea of playing getting-to-know-you?”

“No. This is.”

He dipped my body backward, drawing me up in a slow arc until he raised me flush against him. In his arms, my joints loosened, my defenses melting as he led me through the sultry steps. His muscles flexed under his clothes, holding me, leading me. Never letting me stray far.

My knees felt rubbery, but not from dancing. My breathing came faster, and I knew I was treading down a slippery slope. Being this close to Jev, skin brushing, legs touching lightly, gazes connecting briefly in the dark, it was all blind sensation and intoxicating heat. A strange jumble of nervous exhilaration, I pulled away, but not too hard.

“I don’t have the body for this,” I quipped, lifting my chin at a voluptuous woman nearby who shook her hips zealously to the beat. “No curves.”

Jev’s eyes held mine. “Are you asking my opinion?”

I flushed. “I asked for that.”

He tipped his head down, his breath warming my skin. His lips grazed my forehead with featherweight pressure. I shut my eyes, trying to hold back the absurd desire for him to move his mouth lower, until it found my own.

“Jev—,” I wanted to say. Only his name didn’t escape. Jev, Jev, Jev, I thought in perfect cadence to my heightened pulse. I repeated his name, a silent request, until it spun me dizzy.

The sliver of air between our mouths was a vivid presence, teasing and tempting. He was so close, my body attuned to his in a way that both frightened and marveled. I waited, leaning into his embrace, my breath light with anticipation.

Suddenly his body grew taut. The spell broke, the gap between us irrevocably widening, and I stepped back.

“We’ve got company,” Jev said.

I tried to pull completely away, but Jev tightened his hold on me, forcing me to keep up the pretense of dancing. “Stay calm,” he murmured, his cheek brushing my forehead. “Remember, if they look at you, they’re going to see blond hair and combat boots. They’re not going to see the real you.”

“Won’t they expect you to tamper with their minds?” I tried to catch a glimpse of the doorway, but several taller men in the crowd blocked me. I couldn’t tell if Hank’s men were advancing or lingering by the doors, watching.

“They didn’t get a good look at me, but they saw me jump from the third floor of the warehouse, which will tell them I’m not human. They’ll be looking for a guy and a girl together, but that could be any number of couples in here.”

“What are they doing now?” I asked, still unable to see past the crowd.

“Having a look around. Dance with me and keep your eyes off the doors. There are four of them. They’re spreading out.” Jev swore. “Two are heading this way. I think we’ve been made. The Black Hand trained them well. I’ve never met a Nephil who could see through a trance within the first year of swearing fealty, but they just might pull it off. Walk toward the bathrooms and take the exit at the end of the hall. Don’t walk too fast, and don’t look back. If anyone tries to stop you, ignore them and keep walking. I’m going to head them off to buy us time. I’ll meet you in the alley in five.”

Jev went one way and I went the other — with my heart in my throat. I elbowed my way through the crowd, the heat of too many bodies and my own nervous adrenaline making my skin moist. I veered into the hallway leading to the bathrooms, which, judging by the rancid smell and the swarm of flies, were anything but sanitary. There was a long line, and I had to edge sideways around each person, muttering a hurried, “Excuse me.”

As Jev promised, a door appeared at the end of the hallway. I pushed through it and found myself outside. Wasting no time, I broke into a jog. I didn’t think it was a good idea to stand in the open, choosing instead to hide behind the Dumpsters until Jev came for me. I was halfway down the alley when the door swung open behind me.

“Over there!” a voice shouted. “She’s getting away!”

I looked back only long enough to confirm they were Nephilim. Then I took off. I didn’t know where I was going, but Jev would have to find me elsewhere. I raced across the street, heading back to where we’d abandoned the Tahoe. When Jev didn’t find me in the alley, hopefully his car was the next place he’d think to look.

The Nephilim were too fast. Even at a full sprint, I could hear them closing in. Everything came ten times easier to them, I realized with increasing panic. When they were only moments away from seizing me, I whirled around.

The two Nephilim slowed, instantly wary of my intentions. I shifted my eyes between them, breathing heavily. I could keep running and draw out the inevitable. I could put up a fight. I could scream bloody murder and hope Jev heard. But every option felt like grasping at straws.

“Is it her?” the shorter one asked with a formal accent that sounded British. He eyed me shrewdly.

“It’s her,” the taller, an American, confirmed. “She’s using a trance. Focus on one detail at a time, the way the Black Hand taught us. Her hair, for instance.”

The shorter Nephil squinted at me so intently I wondered if he could see all the way through to the bricks on the building behind me. “Well, well,” he said after a moment. “Red, is it? I preferred you blond.”

With inhuman speed, they were at my sides, each gripping an elbow so hard I winced. “What were you doing in the warehouse?” the taller Nephil asked. “How did you find it?”

“I—,” I began. But I was too terrified to think up a plausible lie. They weren’t going to believe me if I said sheer dumb luck was responsible for my stumbling through their window in the middle of the night.

“Cat got your tongue?” the shorter said, tickling under my chin.

I jerked away.

“We have to take her back to the warehouse,” the taller one said. “The Black Hand or Blakely will want to question her.”

“They won’t be back till tomorrow. Might as well get some answers now.”

“What if she doesn’t talk?”

The shorter Nephil licked his lips, something frightening lighting up his eyes. “We’ll make sure she does.”

The taller Nephil frowned. “She’ll tell them everything.”

“We’ll wipe her memory when we’re done. She won’t know the difference.”

“We’re not strong enough yet. Even if we could erase half of it, it wouldn’t be enough.”

“We could try devilcraft,” the shorter suggested with a disturbing gleam in his eyes.

“Devilcraft is a myth. The Black Hand made that clear.”

“Oh yeah? If the angels in heaven have powers, it makes sense the demons in hell should too. You say myth, I say potential gold mine. Imagine what we could do if we got our hands on it.”

“Even if devilcraft exists, we wouldn’t know where to start.”

The shorter Nephil wagged his head in irritation. “Always one for fun, you are. Fine. We make sure our stories match. Our word against hers.” He counted down his suggested version of the night’s events on his fingers. “We chased her from the warehouse, found her hiding in the club, and while dragging her back, she got scared and spilled everything. It won’t matter what she says happened. She already broke into the warehouse. If anything, the Black Hand will expect her to lie again.”

The taller Nephil didn’t look fully convinced, but he didn’t argue, either.

“You’re coming with me,” the shorter one grunted, forcing me roughly into the tight space between the buildings at our rear. He paused only to tell his friend, “Stay here and make sure nobody bothers us. If we can extract information from her, it just might earn us extra privileges. Maybe even move us up a rank.”

My whole body went into a slow freeze at the idea of being interrogated by the Nephil, but I’d quickly come to accept that I didn’t stand a fighting chance against both of them. Maybe I could press my advantage. My only hope — and even I knew it was a thin one — was to level the playing field by going one on one. Letting the shorter Nephil drag me deeper into the narrow breezeway, I hoped the gamble would pay off.

“You’re making a big mistake,” I told him, putting all the threat I possessed behind my words.

He rolled up his sleeves, exposing knuckles decorated with various sharp rings, and my courage suddenly felt slippery. “Been in America six months now, waking up at the crack of dawn, training all day under a tyrant, and locked up in the barracks at night. After six months of that prison, let me tell you, it’s going to feel good to take it out on someone.” He licked his lips. “I’m going to enjoy this, luv.”

“You stole my line,” I said, and shoved my knee up between his legs.

I’d seen enough guys at school take a similar hit during sports games or PE class to know the injury wouldn’t completely immobilize him, but I wasn’t expecting him to be ready to lunge at me after nothing more than a pained moan.

He came at me in a blur. There was a discarded two-by-four near my feet, and I snatched it up. Several rusty nails protruded from it, making it a useful weapon.

The Nephil eyed the block of wood and shrugged. “Go ahead. Try and hit me. Won’t hurt.”

I gripped the two-by-four like a bat. “It might not permanently injure you, but trust me, it will hurt.”

He faked to his right, but I was expecting it. When he jumped to his left, I swung down hard. There was an awful puncturing sound, and the Nephil yelped.

“That’s gonna cost you.” He kicked high before I had time to register the movement, his boot sending the wood out of my grasp. He wrestled me to the ground, pinning my arms over my head.

“Get off me!” I yelled, twisting under his weight.

“Sure thing, luv. Just tell me what you were doing at the safe house.”

“Get — off — me—now.”

“You heard her.”

The Nephil’s eyes widened in impatience. “What now?” he snapped, whipping his head around to see who dared interrupt us.

“It was an easy enough request,” Jev said, smiling slightly, but it was all lethality at the edges.

“I’m a little busy at the moment, mate,” the Nephil barked, raking his eyes over me for emphasis. “If you don’t mind.”

“Turns out I do.” Jev grabbed the Nephil by the shoulders and flung him against the building. He splayed his hand across the Nephil’s throat, shutting off his airway.

“Apologize.” With a flick of his head, Jev gestured in my direction.

The Nephil clawed at Jev’s hand, his face flaring with color. His mouth opened and closed like a fish’s, trying to draw oxygen.

“Tell her how deeply sorry you are, or I’ll make sure you have nothing to say for a good while longer.” With his free hand, Jev waved a switchblade, and I realized he meant to cut out the Nephil’s tongue. For what it was worth, I didn’t feel a shred of sympathy. “What’s it going to be?”

The Nephil’s eyes burned with rage as he glanced between me and Jev.

Sorry, his infuriated voice spat into my mind.

“It won’t win an Oscar, but it’ll do,” Jev told him with a vicious smile. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Wrenching free, the Nephil gulped air and massaged his throat. “Do I know you? I know you’re a fallen angel — I can feel your power rolling off you like a stench, which makes me think you must have been pretty high up before you fell, maybe even an archangel — but what I want to know is if we’ve crossed paths before.” It seemed like a trick question, meant to help the Nephil track Jev down at some future point, but Jev wasn’t baited.

“Not yet,” he said. “I’ll keep the introduction short.” He plowed his fist into the Nephil’s gut. The Nephil’s mouth was still in the shape of an O when he sank to his knees and went slack.

Jev turned to me. I expected him to demand why I hadn’t stayed in the alley like we’d agreed, and how I’d wound up with the present company, but he simply wiped a smudge of dirt off my cheek and buttoned the top two buttons on my blouse.

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

I nodded, but felt tears swell at the back of my throat.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said.

For once, I didn’t protest.